


Ain't Never Gonna Be The Same

by leyley09



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-06-09 17:34:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6916804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leyley09/pseuds/leyley09
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Before you start, I just want to say… I’m really sorry you have to see this.” Patches picks up the tablet, presumably opening whatever it is Danny is being shown. “But it’s been decided - the rest of us had to see it in person, so all the new guys get to see it on video so we can all be, well, almost equally traumatized.”</p>
<p>“Also,” Pleky adds, “you need to swear you will never speak of this outside of this room.”</p>
<p>“Especially in front of Pricey!” Gally pipes up loudly from the back corner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ain't Never Gonna Be The Same

**Author's Note:**

> If something like this isn't what comes to mind when you hear "Save A Horse (Ride A Cowboy)", well, it might be now. Sorry not sorry..... 
> 
> This sort of popped into my head and wouldn't leave, so here it is. I thought for a while there might be more, but it hasn't come to me. If someone else wants to pick up where I left off, I'd be delighted to hear about it!
> 
> Also, this does involve people being filmed without their knowledge. If that's an issue for you, I think we'd all be happier if you moved on to read something else! 
> 
> Thank you ChelseaIBelieve (and your in-laws) for correcting my French!! (can somebody get Quebecois added to Google Translate please?)

Danny isn’t sure why he’s being led deep into the heart of Le Centre Bell, but he’s sincerely hoping this ‘new guy’ hazing is both mild and over quickly. He’s got a Skype date before the game tonight that he doesn’t want to miss. Gallagher is ahead of him, uncharacteristically silent. It’s amazing how many corridors there are buried underneath the arena floor; he’ll never get back out of here on his own.

Gallagher eventually stops just before a truly unremarkable door which looks like it hasn’t been opened in years. He waits for Danny to catch up then knocks on the door. The pattern of knocks is very familiar. 

“Is that  _ Le But _ ?” Danny asks incredulously. Gallagher ignores him as the door cracks open, just barely.

“Were you seen?” 

“C’mon, Pleky, let us in. We’ve been wandering around for 10 minutes. I think we’d have seen Pricey if he was following us.”

“If we keep standing in the hallway, someone’s going to notice,” Danny points out. He’d really like to get this over with.

The door opens just enough for them to slide through, sideways. Danny’s barely cleared the door when it slams shut. Plekanec starts on a lock about eye level; there are another five on the door, all the way down to knee level. Seems a little excessive, especially after he gets a look at the interior.

Inside the dim room, Pacioretty, Eller, and Markov are standing around a small, square table centered under one bare, flickering lightbulb hanging directly from the ceiling. Sitting on the table is a non-descript, off-brand tablet with a set of earbuds already connected. There’s only one chair. 

“Hey, Danny.” Patches gestures at the chair. “Thanks for coming down here. I promise this won’t take long.” He glances at Larry, next to him. “Ten minutes, you think?”

Larry nods. “Only if you have questions.”

Danny sits. He hates these old metal folding chairs.

“Before you start, I just want to say… I’m really sorry you have to see this.” Patches picks up the tablet, presumably opening whatever it is Danny is being shown. “But it’s been decided - the rest of us had to see it in person, so all the new guys get to see it on video so we can all be, well, almost equally traumatized.”

“Also,” Pleky adds, “you need to swear you will never speak of this outside of this room.”

“Especially in front of Pricey!” Gally pipes up loudly from the back corner. Everyone around the table turns to glare at him. He subsides back into the dimness with a noticeable pout.

“He’s right, though,” Larry says. “You must never even hint that you know about this in front of Pricey. He thinks we deleted this video, and he was very specific about the consequences if he found additional copies.” A shudder runs through everyone in the room except Danny.

“Can we hurry?” Markov seems even more nervous than Danny is right now.

“I won’t even think about it in front of Pricey, I promise.”

“You say that now,” Patches mutters lowly as he hands Danny the tablet.

Danny puts in the earbuds and touches the screen to start the video.

 

_ The video is shaky and blurry at first, clearly from a phone. When the picture resolves, the setting is a fairly dim bar or club of some kind, probably a bar based on the booths and tables around the edges of the frame. Centered in the middle of the room is a crowd of people dancing. The video zooms jerkily towards the dancers until the viewer can just make out P.K. Subban. He’s belting out the words to ‘Save a Horse’ by Big & Rich without hesitation - this is clearly a song he knows well. He’s also, well, one could call that dancing. Grinding is maybe a better description, but even that falls short. What he’s doing is pushing the boundaries of acceptable public behavior; there’s no subtlety to what he thinks “ride a cowboy” is supposed to mean. His dance partner’s face is blocked by P.K. and concealed by the lighting, but it’s pretty obvious it’s a guy, just based on the size of the hands. One is placed somewhat centrally on P.K.’s chest; the other is drifting not too discretely into the left front pocket of P.K.’s jeans. It’s not until the song is moving into the second verse that the camera gets a good look at the other participant. The dancers shift just enough for one clear shot of Carey Price’s face.  _ [Danny almost drops the tablet.]  _ “Pricey is going to MURDER you, man” is shouted by someone off camera, but there’s too much noise to make out who is speaking. “Somebody needs to stop them before they get any more carried away.” That’s definitely Patches; he must be much closer to the camera. He’s right, too. While the dancing isn’t technically ‘good’, their movements flow too smoothly to lead to any conclusion besides “those people have to be fucking”. The video ends rather abruptly as someone shoves past the camera. _

 

Danny pulls the earbuds out and carefully places the tablet on the table. He turns slowly towards Patches. “What the hell.”

“That,” Patches replies gravely, “was the last time we gave Pricey tequila. That’s the other reason for making you watch this. Under no circumstances whatsoever are you to let anyone give Pricey tequila.”

“Fair enough, but how is this the only copy of THAT in existence?”

“We were in Glendale,” Larry says with a shrug. “No one else was paying any attention, and we did drag them out of there immediately after the video ends.”

“Made the mistake of showing them on the plane the next day,” Pleky adds. “P.K. laughed his ass off. Pricey threatened to make all of us disappear into the wilderness and promised no one would ever find our bodies. And then he stood there watching while everyone deleted their copy.”

“Everyone except Larry,” Patches interjects with a proud smile. “He looked so innocent Pricey didn’t even suspect he had a copy.” Danny has no trouble believing that.

“So, uh, are they actually --” Danny trails off, hoping they’ll get it without him having to be more specific.

“We can’t be certain.” Patches shakes his head, ruefully. “They’ve never said, and no one is willing to ask. But with that, and well, you’ve been around for a bit, you’ve seen them. I think we’d all be more surprised if they weren’t.”

Danny nods. He understands that; he played with Carts and Richie.

“Now,” Patches continues, “Gally is going to lead you back out of here and let you get on with your day. We don’t talk about this ever again, and you agree to forcibly prevent, if necessary, the ingesting of tequila by Carey Price. Okay?”

“Okay.” Danny nods solemnly to reinforce his agreement.

Everyone else returns the nod. Patches pats him on the shoulder and gestures towards the door. Pleky is already undoing the locks. 

The door creaks quietly as Pleky pulls it open just enough to peer out. He waits several seconds before he steps back and waves them through.

Gally moves a lot quicker on his way out of the building. The path is also much more straightforward than it was earlier. He’s still too quiet and a little twitchy at every distant noise, but they reach the dressing room without encountering anyone else. Gally leaves him at the door with a wave and nearly runs back down the hall and around a corner.

Danny opens the door, steps through, and stops abruptly. There’s nothing inherently inappropriate about the scene he’s just walked into, but the last few minutes have changed his perspective a bit. Pricey is sitting in front of his stall, one sneaker tied and the other still undone. He’s been interrupted by P.K., who is standing  _ just  _ a hair too close. No one’s touching, but Danny still feels like he walked into the middle of something he shouldn’t have.

They glance at him briefly, but they clearly don’t think his entrance is anything to worry about, dismissing him quickly and returning to their murmured conversation. Danny doesn’t dawdle; he grabs his bag and his coat and calls his “see you guys later” over his shoulder at P.K. 

He waits until he’s three blocks from the arena, waiting at a red light, before he dials his phone.

_ Hey Clo.  Non, je sais que nous allons parler plus tard, mais tu ne croiras pas ce que je viens de voir... _

**Author's Note:**

> TRANSLATION:   
> Non, je sais que nous allons parler plus tard, mais tu ne croiras pas ce que je viens de voir... --- No, I know we'll talk later, but you will not believe what I just saw...


End file.
